


Sordid Nonsense

by WolfAndHound_Archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Humor, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 13:53:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5930779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfAndHound_Archivist/pseuds/WolfAndHound_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Better late than never</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sordid Nonsense

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Lassenia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Wolf and Hound](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Wolf_and_Hound), which was created to make stories posted to the Sirius_Black_and_Remus_Lupin Yahoo! mailing list easier to find. However, even though I still love the fandom, I am no longer active in it and do not have the time to maintain it. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in December 2015. I posted an announcement with Open Doors, but we may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Wolf and Hound collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wolfandhound/profile).

It's funny, the things you say to your godson when you're pissed out of your skull.

"I haven't had sex for two decades, Harry."

Harry blinked once, then burst out laughing. Twin streams of ale spurted out his nose; he wiped his face on his sleeve, then glanced at Ron and cracked up again.

"It's not fucking funny!" Sirius said furiously. He slapped both younger men round the heads, but they showed no signs of calming down and taking him seriously. "It's HELL!" he moaned. "My life is hell!"

The three of them were slouched in the corner of the Three Broomsticks, surrounded by the debris of their drinking binge. Bottles stood on and around the table like sentries, and they'd managed to spill more peanuts and crisps than they'd eaten. And now everything was sprayed with a liberal amount of alcohol.

"But you've been out the clink for seven years," Ron said. "Surely that much wanking would've blinded you by now."

Harry nudged him. "He's a dog, Ron. He can lick his own genitals."

"Then what d'you need sex for?!" Ron asked, incredulous. "God, Sirius... if I could do that, I'd never leave my room. Except to find a full-length mirror."

"And where would that leave me?" Harry asked. He sounded hurt.

Ron grinned. "You could watch."

"Okay, stop it," Sirius said, when Harry leaned over and he and Ron began kissing. They didn't listen, surprisingly enough, so he grabbed Harry's collar and pulled him back into his seat. "STOP it! It's bad enough that I'm not getting any, I don't need reminders that YOU two are fucking like rabbits..."

"No, rabbits don't wear leath... mmmph!"

Harry put his hand over Ron's mouth, and smiled sweetly. "Sorry, Sirius. Go on. What were you saying?"

"I haven't had sex since I was your age, and it's doing my nut in."

More alcohol-fuelled giggling.

"Oh, shut up! I mean, it's doing my head in."

Ron choked on his laughter.

"Sorry," he wheezed when he'd calmed down, grinning broadly and looking anything but sorry. "Anything we can do to help?"

Sirius blinked.

"Not like that!" Ron added hastily. "I mean... well, I don't know."

"Have you tried to go out and meet people?" Harry asked. "You know, you'll never find a woman if you only hang about with us and Remus."

Sirius drank deeply from his tankard. "Who said I wanted a woman?" he muttered. He risked a glance at the others. They suddenly seemed much more interested.

"Oh?" Harry said. He sounded amused. "Come on, then. Details, please. You're gay?"

"Not exactly. Yes. No. Sort of."

"You mean, you want sex so badly you'll shag anything with a hole if it stays still long enough?" Ron tried.

"No! Well, that's beside the poi... NO!! I mean..."

He waved his hand about, as if he was trying to pluck the right words from thin air.

"You mean, you're in love with another man because of HIM, not his gender?" Harry tried.

Sirius nodded glumly. "But he's as straight as a very straight arrow."

"Of course he isn't!" Harry said scornfully. "With the right sort of help, YOU could turn any straight man gay."

Sirius felt a smile begin to tug at the corners of his lips. "And I suppose you class yourselves as the right sort of help?"

Ron and Harry looked at each other. "Damn straight," Ron said.

"Who is this mystery man, then?" Harry asked. "Anyone we know?"

Sirius nodded. There was a long silence.

"So, who is it?" Ron asked impatiently.

"Remus," Sirius whispered. He drained the rest of his ale, and repeated the name a little more loudly. "Remus. I'm in love with Remus Lupin."

"But he's not straight!" Harry said. "You told me yourself, you two had a bit of a fling when you were younger."

Sirius shrugged. "A couple of clumsy, fumbling snogs. Maybe things would've got more intense if we didn't suspect each other of being the traitor, but it broke off before it went any further than kissing."

"All right. But don't look so miserable!" Ron ordered. "We have loads to work with. You're best friends, you share a house, and you've snogged."

"Why do you say he's straight?"

"Because he goes out with women. As far as I know, he's never been with a man. Other than me, but that doesn't count."

"Right. And you've been celibate since you were twenty?"

"Yes."

Harry let out a low whistle between his teeth. "Damn. I'm sorry. That's awful."

"I... KNOW," Sirius growled.

~+~+~+~

+++ Meanwhile, back in Remus Lupin's bedroom +++

Kissing Hermione, Remus glumly decided as he unhooked her bra and slid his tongue along her full lower lip, was a hell of a lot less interesting than he'd thought it was going to be.

It wasn't that she wasn't a good kisser -- because she was -- or that he didn't like her -- because he did, very much -- or that she couldn't reduce him to a gibbering, sweaty mass of hormones and come in five seconds flat -- because she could.

It might have had something to do with the distinct lack of stubble on her chin.

_No. Mind on the job, Lupin. Bra-straps down arms. Kiss shoulders. Toss garment to floor. Suck nipple. Good. Remove knickers._

He grasped the hem of the lacy bit of nothingness that was masquerading as underwear and began to pull it down her leg, but she stopped him. For a moment, he looked blankly at the hand that was covering his, then glanced up at Hermione's face.

"You know, Remus, we really don't have to do this," she said. She pulled her knickers back up and looked at him carefully. "Doesn't seem like your heart's in it tonight."

"No, it is. I want to. Really," he said miserably.

Hermione arched one eyebrow. "You're being too methodical. It's uncharacteristic even for YOU, Mr Routine." She tried a smile, but he still looked as though he was about to cry, so she dropped it quickly. "There's something troubling you," she said quietly. "Do you want to talk about it?"

And afterwards he could never quite work out which of his past lives had been so sinful that the gods deemed it necessary to curse him with a flapping trap in this one... well, whatever it was, he couldn't help blurting out his thoughts.

"I want to fuck Sirius."

Remus clapped both hands over his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut.

_Fuck. FUCK. You stupid fucking idiot!! Why did you say that, whywhyWHYYY?!_

He remained like that for at least a minute, just listening to Hermione's steady breathing and steeling himself for the slap that was sure to come.

"Oh," she said eventually.

Remus debated whether to risk opening an eye. That wasn't an angry "oh". That was the sort of "oh" she made when he touched her.

He risked it, and peeked at her. "Oh?" he repeated. The word was muffled behind his fingers, and he cautiously removed them and said it again.

And when she smiled, he managed to open the other eye as well.

"Yes. Oh."

He took her hand and kissed it, then clutched it tightly to his chest. "Hermione, love, I'm sorry... I never meant to say that..."

She pulled away and began trailing her fingertips up and down his side instead. "But do you mean it?"

"I... don't understand."

"You let it slip accidentally, but do you really mean it?"

"No," he whispered, although he wouldn't look at her, and he was biting his lip hard.

This time, her "oh" sounded disappointed. Of all the emotions in the world, she sounded DISAPPOINTED that her lover didn't want to have sex with another man.

_I will NEVER understand women. Ever._

"Oh?" he repeated again.

Hermione shrugged. "Oh, that's sort of a shame. Because the thought of you with Sirius is... gosh, this is bizarre... it's about the most erotic, most perfect thing I can think of."

Remus stared at her.

_Or maybe it's just THIS woman I'll never understand..._

"You're not serious?" he choked.

"Oh, I am. Here, turn over." Remus shifted position from his side to his front, and Hermione began rubbing his back; her touch suddenly seemed friendly rather than sensual, which was odd because his back was one of the more sensitive areas of his body.

"I probably ought to feel offended that you're being so blasé," he murmured.

She laughed softly and kissed his cheek. "Well, we both knew this wouldn't last. I'd rather you left me for someone whom I can have dirty fantasies about than for any other reason. And hey -- you'll stop getting death threats from my dad now."

Remus chuckled softly and moved yet again, gathering Hermione into his arms and hugging her tight. "Yes. This relationship was doomed from the start, wasn't it?"

"What, with me half your age and you an in-denial homosexual? Yes, I'd say we were pretty screwed."

"Heh."

"Heh."

A long silence. Then:

"Remus?"

"Yes?"

"DO you want to talk about it?"

"Do you want to hear about it?"

"YES!! Yes, I would very much like to hear about it, Professor Lupin!"

"All right." He got out of bed, then blushed suddenly and held a pillow in front of himself. "Perhaps we should put some clothes on."

~+~

"So..." Hermione said slowly, much later. "You and Sirius snogged, but didn't have sex?"

"Right."

"Did you put your hands in his pants?"

"No."

"Did he put his hands in YOUR pants?"

"No. But he seemed to like gripping my arse as we kissed."

"Hmm. Well, that's a start."

She thoughtfully brushed the tip of the quill across her lips as she read her notes to herself.

"What do you think?" Remus asked anxiously.

She looked up and smiled. "I think you have a chance. But this is going to take a bit of work."

"Well... what do you suggest?"

Hermione got to her feet and began pacing up and down in front of the fire.

"How did you seduce me, the first time?"

"I didn't. We were drunk."

"Yes, but we were ALL drunk. It was our "Ding-Dong-The-Bastard's- Dead" party... even the CHILDREN were reeling. Why did I go for you and not Sirius or Bill or Neville?"

"I... don't know."

She stopped pacing and looked right at him. "You were standing on the bar with a Santa hat slipping down over your eyes, dancing the YMCA as you recited sonnets."

"Oh, dear..."

Remus hid his face in his hands at the fuzzy, blurred memory, thankful that she didn't mention the karaoke.

Hermione sat on the floor by his feet. "Don't be embarrassed! I thought you were marvellous. You have the most gorgeous voice. Makes me shiver, just listening to you speak. You want to seduce Sirius? Easy. Talk to him. READ to him."

Remus removed his hands and frowned. "Read WHAT? The Kama Sutra? That's damn subtle, Hermione..."

"Anything!! Poetry. Shakespeare. Stories. Bloody hell, Remus, read him shopping lists, bus timetables, recipes, ANYTHING! When does he come home?"

"I'm not sure. He and the boys have gone drinking. Could be any time between now and Thursday."

"Then I'll leave you to it." She stood up, and leant forward to kiss his cheek. "Good luck. I'll search out some books and things, and come back tomorrow."

~+~+~+~

+++ The next day +++

Sirius was one of those annoying people who never seem to get hangovers. This, however, didn't mean he wanted to get up at nine o' clock on a Saturday morning to go shopping with Harry and Ron.

"Get UP, you lazy arse!" Ron yelled in his ear. Sirius swatted feebly at Ron's face and rolled over, smacking his lips and muttering something incoherent.

Harry grasped his godfather's shoulders and shook hard. Sirius's head lolled about and he frowned, stubbornly refusing to open his eyes.

"Get up, Sirius, or Ron and I will show you exactly what you and Remus are missing. And we'll do it right here on your bed."

Sirius opened one eye at once. "Pervert," he muttered, in a sleep- cracked, husky voice. "Sadist. It's still dark!! We didn't get in 'til three. Leave me alone."

He rolled over and hid his head under the pillow, but the bed began rocking.

"Bloody fucking bastard gits..." he mumbled as he headed to the bathroom. "You'd better not mess up my sheets!" he yelled over his shoulder.

"Excuse me?"

He turned back at the sound of Remus's curious voice, and swallowed hard, forcing himself to smile at his friend. "Morning, Re."

"Mess up your sheets? Who did you bring home last night?"

"Harry and Ron, but NOT like that," he added hurriedly, when Remus raised an eyebrow. "They insisted on escorting me back, and then they got lost looking for the fireplace and slept on the floor."

"Ah. So..."

"So."

"So. What are you doing?"

"Going to the bathroom. I taste like I've licked Mrs Norris and my mouth's as dry as Gandhi's flip-flop, I've never needed to brush my teeth so much in all my life."

Sirius made a mental note to stab his own eyes out later. _Mmm, seductive. "Shove off, I have rank breath." Wonderful._

"Well, all right, then. Have fun."

Remus made a mental note to rip out his tongue at the root later. _"Have fun?" You, Remus J. Lupin, are the biggest prat ever to have walked this accursed planet._

Sirius looked confused. "I'll try. See you later."

He did have fun in the bathroom, actually. Although it would have been so much better if it had been someone else's hand.

Argh.

~+~

+++ Later, in Diagon Alley +++

Sirius stared at the scrap of dead animal carcass that Harry was holding up for inspection.

"What," he asked quietly, "is THAT?"

"THAT," Ron said (so excited he was almost bouncing), "is genuine 100% dragonhide. The best in the world. And you're going to wear it."

"You are surely jesting."

"I jest not." Ron took the bit of clothing and handed it to Sirius, then propelled him towards the checkout. "Come on, we haven't got all day. This is only the beginning."

~+~

+++ Later, outside Sirius's bedroom door +++

After a gruelling eight hours shopping, Harry and Ron went home for a quick shower and change of clothes, then Apparated to Sirius and Remus's place. Remus wasn't there, but there was a noise upstairs. Upon investigating, they discovered that there was an awful lot of grunting and panting coming from Sirius's bedroom.

Harry and Ron looked at each other and grinned.

"What d'you think he's doing?" Ron asked.

"Masturbating, I'm guessing."

"No I'm not!" Sirius yelled. "Get in here and help me."

"All right," Harry called, with his hand on the doorknob, "but if you're naked, I'm going to scream."

"Harry, HELP me!"

They entered the room to find Sirius lying on the bed, very red in the face, with his trousers around his knees.

"Oh, bloody hell!" Harry cried, putting both hands over his eyes. "You bastard, you said you weren't!"

"I'm NOT, I'm trying to get these stupid fucking trousers on! And it was your idea to buy them, so you can bloody well help me."

It seemed to take forever to get the trousers up Sirius's legs; when they were eventually in place, all three stared at the zip for a while.

"How the hell are we going to pull THAT up?" Harry muttered.

"Very carefully," Sirius said. He fell back against his pillows. "Fucking hell. I'm knackered. Can we please just give up on this stupid idea?"

"NO!" the others said in unison... and then there were four hands on his crotch, and Sirius screamed bloody murder.

"Get off me! Get OFF me!!" he yelled. "ARGH!!"

"We're only trying to help!" Harry said.

"Yes, well DON'T!! I can zip my own trousers, thank you very much."

And he could. It took him twenty minutes, but he managed it.

Now all he had to do was stand up.

~+~+~+~

+++ Meanwhile, in Hermione's living room +++

"Too soppy."

"Don't like the rhymes."

"Awful."

"Don't like the rhythm."

"God, who writes this shite?!"

"Too... heterosexual."

"And that was the last one," Hermione said. She threw the book of love poetry down on the carpet and scowled. "This is much more difficult than I thought it was going to be."

"Mmm, I know." Remus pulled another book onto his lap and began flipping through the pages. "We'll just have to keep looking for something suitable."

"Why don't you try just talking to him?" Hermione suggested tentatively.

He Looked at her. "Do you know what I said to him this morning?"

"No..."

"RUBBISH, that's what!! I CAN'T just talk to him, Hermione... I turn into a teenager when I see him and forget how to form proper sentences."

"But he's your best friend. You've known him forever, how can it be so hard to talk to him?"

Remus shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know."

"Let's go over and all eat together. Hiding from him won't help the situation. And maybe it'll be easier if it's not just the two of you."

~+~+~+~

+++ Back at The Bachelor Pad +++

Harry came into the living room. "That was Hermione on the Floo. She's coming back with Remus for dinner. It's your big moment, Sirius."

"Erk."

"If all goes well, he'll see you in those trousers and realise that you're the sexiest man in the whole damn world... except for Ron, of course," Harry hurriedly added, noting his boyfriend's glare. "And you'll be in bed together before midnight. Cool?"

"Not cool at all," Sirius gasped. "My balls are squashed and sticking to the leather. I've never been so uncomfortable, ever!"

"But it's LEATHER!" Ron said. "LEATHER, Sirius! Leather is sexy. No one can resist a man in leather."

"It's RAW!" Harry said enthusiatically. His eyes were shining. "Natural! Animalistic! ROWR!!!"

Wide-eyed, Sirius nodded. "I'm going over here now," he said, waddling with some difficulty over to the other side of the room. "You're creeping me out, Harry."

"Oh, come off it. I'm not blind. You're sexy. Doesn't mean I want you, but I know art when I see it, and you, Sirius Black, are a piece of art."

"Yeah, and surely Remus can see that too," Ron added. "He's not blind either. And you know he likes pretty things."

"Did someone say my name?" Hermione called cheerily from the hall. She put her head around the door, spotted Sirius, murmured something that sounded a little bit like, "Oh, my dear God," and disappeared again.

~+~+~+~

+++ In the hall +++

"He's wearing leather trousers."

"He... what?!"

"He's wearing leather trousers. They're so tight, you can see what religion he is."

"OHGOD. I can't go in there!"

"Remus, if you Apparate back to my place and he takes those trousers off and never wears them again, your life will no longer be worth living. I'm being serious. He's... Remus! Sirius is wearing leather, dammit!!"

"I... can't. I can't. I CAN'T."

"There's no such word as can't."

"Hermione, I CAN'T!!"

"Come on."

"Get off me. Get OFF! Let go of my hand! Hermione!!"

~+~+~+~

+++ In the living room +++

When Remus walked in the door, Sirius discovered that leather was a BITCH when you had a whopping great erection.

"Flerblreeplemgrnraw," he said, then coughed and repeated his hello a bit more clearly.

"Evening," Hermione said cordially. Remus just nodded wordlessly.

~+~

Now, dinner parties at which three of the participants are twenty years old and trying their hardest to get the other two participants to admit their feelings for each other Are Not Fun.

"Whose idea was it to buy these phallic sausages?" Harry asked, winking at Sirius and licking the sausage.

Sirius groaned and hit his head on the table.

Hermione nudged Remus. "Why don't you tell Sirius about your day?" she asked innocently.

Remus blushed and mumbled.

"Hey, let's play truth or dare!" Ron said. He grinned at the looks on the older men's faces. "Oh, come on! It'll be fun."

"Sirius," Harry said. "Truth or dare?"

"Double whiskey, please."

"Sirius..."

Sirius blew his breath out in a great exasperated whoosh. "We're not teenagers any more, Harry."

"Then stop behaving like it," Ron muttered under his breath.

"Come on," Hermione said. "It WILL be fun. It's not just a silly teenage game. It's about trust and friendship and love..."

"...and being properly ashamed in front of people you adore," Harry added, grinning. "Truth or dare, Sirius?"

Sirius gritted his teeth. "Truth."

"Have you ever fancied a man?" Harry said promptly.

Sirius glared at him. "Dare."

"Kiss Remus."

Sirius fled, muttering something about being very tired and feeling very ill. He didn't see the look of utter dejection on Remus's face.

~+~+~+~

Hermione stamped her foot angrily.

"Stop sulking right NOW, Remus!"

"Don't want to," he said grumpily. His pouting face was almost buried in his hunched shoulders; his arms were folded across his chest and his knuckles were clenched so tightly they were white.

"Remus!" Hermione snapped. "There's nothing more ridiculous than a forty-one year old having a temper tantrum."

"Yes there is! How about a lovesick forty-one year old pouf?"

Hermione bit back her smile. "Come on, cheer up. It was a stupid idea to play the game anyway. It didn't mean anything."

"He was furious! Did you not see his face? He was bright red! He was apoplectic with rage and revulsion!"

"He might only have been embarrassed! And let's face it, Harry and Ron were being total gits." She hesitated for a moment, then her face seemed to light up. "HEY!! They were really pushing it. What if...?"

"What if what?"

"What if Sirius, you know, likes you too but is too frightened to say anything?"

"Don't be ridiculous!! You're talking about England's Tequila King! You're talking about the man who spent his late teenage years riding an illegal, modified flying motorcycle! You're ta..."

"Okay, I get it! But that's not courage. That's... bravado. What if it's all a show?"

Remus shrugged his hunched shoulders, then sighed deeply and sat up. "Listen, love, I appreciate all this support, and I don't think I'd have been so understanding if it had been the other way around... but really, there's a different between support and false hope."

"OHHH!!" she groaned in exasperation, flinging her hands up in the air. "You're behaving like a child. You don't KNOW what he's thinking or feeling, because you refuse to talk to him."

"I don't refuse. I just CAN'T."

"Well then you're not trying hard enough." She went over to the armchair and knelt on the floor so she could look up at his face. "You're going to have to do something drastic soon, you know. Either that, or you forget about this fancying-the-leather-pants-off business. You'll have to choose."

"Go for all or nothing, you mean?"

"Would you call your friendship nothing?"

"Of course not," he muttered.

"Well, shut up, then," she said huffily.

A pause. Then: "Hermione?"

"What?"

"Stop sulking."

"I'm not."

"Of course you're not." He reached down and tugged playfully on her protruding lower lip. "You'd trip over this if you weren't sitting down."

That got a smile, and she looked up at him.

"So," she said.

He smiled back. "So."

"We really need to sort this mess out."

A long, heavy sigh. "I know we do."

Hermione leaned back against Remus's knees and he draped a friendly arm over her shoulder. They remained in deep, silent thought for a while, until Hermione's whole body jerked.

"Oh!" she said, sounding surprised. "Idea!"

"Do tell!"

She smiled. Remus felt uneasy -- it was a wicked look, eerily reminiscent of an animal stalking its prey.

"Have you seen 'Grease'?"

~+~+~+~

+++ The next afternoon +++

Sirius Apparated to Harry's front garden.

"Harry! I know you're in there, you evil, low-life, scum-sucking fuck!" he yelled, thumping furiously on the door. "Get your arse out here and fight me like a man!"

"O-KAY!" came a voice, and the door swung open. Sirius went to grab Harry's shirt so he could drag him outside and thump him properly, but then he realised that Harry wasn't WEARING a shirt. And as mad as he was with his godson, he didn't quite want him dead. He shoved his hands in his pockets instead of using them to squeeze Harry's neck to nothing, and glared.

"You're a shit, Harry."

Harry opened his eyes wide in carefully-planned innocence. "I was trying to help!"

"You were trying to embarrass the crap out of me, and -- you -- bloody -- SUCCEEDED!"

"Look," Harry said, leaning casually against the doorframe as if this was the sort of conversation he had every day, "if you want him, you have to do something about it. Why can't you see that?"

"I CAN see it!"

"I really am trying to help, you know."

Sirius paused, and scratched his head. "Eh. I know you are. In your own weird way. But so far nothing's worked, and I'm about ready to give up on the whole damn thing."

Harry frowned. "Don't be stupid. You've only been trying for a few days. If you don't have the balls to try, how do you expect to keep it once you've got it?"

"If."

"When," Harry corrected firmly.

"When," Sirius repeated, sounding completely unsure. "So. Do you and Ron want to come for a drink and help me think of something new to try?"

"Er... I'm sort of busy right now," Harry said, gesturing to his own body, which was very much on show. He was only wearing a pair of half- unbuttoned jeans, and held in his hand was...

"Chocolate body paint?" Sirius said, raising an eyebrow as he read the jar's label.

Harry shrugged and grinned. "Yeah."

"I..."

Sirius was interrupted by the rattling and clanking of metal on metal. It sounded suspiciously like chains and a bedframe. And then a voice yelled, "Harry!"

"What?" Harry called, over his shoulder.

"Get back up here!"

"Hang on!" He turned back to Sirius, who looked frightened. "It's all right. He protests, but he loves the anticipation. So, where were we?"

Sirius pointed.

"Ah, yes. Body paint. Food is sexy, and chocolate is the sexiest food there is. Here. Try this."

Sirius took the offered jar and held it carefully, as if he thought it was going to explode. "And... how is this going to help me get Remus?"

"You can't just try and GET him, Sirius. You have to SEDUCE him. There's a difference. Watch this."

Harry unscrewed the lid and scooped out a fingerful of the chocolate. His eyes were half-closed in pleasure, and he kept them on Sirius as he lifted his finger to his own mouth and licked the sticky, sweet sauce away. He ran the tip of his tongue down his finger, cleaning it of the chocolate and finally closing his lips around it, as close to the palm as he could get, and pulling it out slowly. It was glistening with spit, and Sirius stared at it for a moment.

"...gah," he managed to say.

Harry smirked. "It's good. You want a taste?"

He dipped his finger in the jar again and raised it to Sirius's mouth. It was open in shock, so Harry touched the full lower lip gently with the chocolatey fingertip before pushing it right in to the wet warmth.

"Suck it," he said softly.

Sirius barely had time to get his head around the fact that he was sucking chocolatey sex-food from his godson's finger before the finger disappeared. Harry put it in his own mouth, smiling around it as he licked himself clean again.

"See?"

Sirius swallowed hard and nodded.

Then, Ron's voice again: "Harry! You incorrigible sadist! If you and that chocolate don't get back up these stairs right now, I'm going to kill you!"

"Have to get out the cuffs first, love," Harry yelled back. He put the lid back on the jar and took it from Sirius. "Sorry, I suppose I'd better hang on to this. But try it when you get home. Raid the larder. Use whatever you have. Even better, buy some sort of chocolatey substance on the way back."

"But won't it look a bit obvious if I just go in there and try and make him suck my fingers?"

"You're trying to get him to fuck you. I'd say obvious is a good thing." Harry gave Sirius a quick hug. "You'll think of something. Good luck. Now, I'd better go back in before he breaks his chains..."

He winked, then closed the front door. Sirius heard his footsteps running up the stairs, then a delighted squeal from Ron. He shoved his hands in his pockets, sighed deeply at the unfairness of twenty- year-olds getting as much sex as they could eat while he himself was left with his own canine tongue, and turned round to go home. He didn't think he'd bother trying the food = sex angle tonight.

Although the demonstration HAD been utterly sexy.

Sirius shuddered, took one last glance at the house (which he swore was shaking), and Disapparated.

~+~+~+~

+++ Meanwhile, in Diagon Alley +++

"Dear God," Remus wheezed. "I can't breathe!"

"Pain is beauty, Professor Lupin," Hermione said reprovingly. She tugged on the zip some more, but it wouldn't close. "Here, lie down on the floor," she said. He did, and she tried again; she struggled for a while, eventually managing to fasten the trousers.

"OHGOD."

"Blessed gravity, how I love you so," Hermione muttered under her breath.

"I can't breathe. Hermione, I CANNOT BREATHE!!"

"Maybe so, but you look bloody sexy. And they hold in your paunch."

"I AM NOT PAUNCHY!"

"Not any more, you're not..."

"This is a stupid bloody idea. I have no chance with him if I'm DEAD."

"Stop grousing and get that shirt on."

Remus didn't speak for a while. He didn't move either. He just stared.

"THAT shirt? That particular shirt?"

She nodded.

"But Hermione... it's frilly."

Hermione laughed and took the shirt off its hangar. "I did a bit of detective work. Sirius has Ricky Martin records. Nobody is a Ricky Martin fan because they like his music."

Remus looked revulsed. "I'm not sure I want Sirius after all..."

"Get the damn shirt on, Remus. It's just like the one on the album cover. If this doesn't work, nothing will."

Remus grumbled as she dressed him, and screamed when he looked in the mirror.

~+~+~+~

+++ A while later, at Sirius's house +++

"You in, Sirius?" yelled a voice from the kitchen.

Sirius had been staring into space thinking naughty thoughts about Remus and chocolate and debating whether he had the energy to have another halfhearted wank; the voice startled him, and he half-stood.

"It's okay," Ron said, as he came in the door. "It's just us. We've had an idea."

"Right," Sirius said doubtfully. "And what's in that box, Harry?"

Harry shifted his grip on the box and winked. "Provisions. You wait here. We'll call you up when it's ready."

They ran toward the stairs.

"When what's ready?" Sirius called. No answer. "Harry?" Still no answer.

_Why am I suddenly terrified out of my wits?_

~+~

"Ready!" Ron called.

Sirius bounded upstairs as quickly as he could; Ron was standing outside the closed door of Sirius's bedroom, looking very pleased with himself.

"What's going on?" Sirius asked.

"Close your eyes."

Immediately, he opened them wide. "Why?"

"Just do it. It's a surprise."

He did, then he felt Ron's hand on his arm and a creak as the door swung open.

"All right," Ron said. "Open them.

Sirius opened his eyes and had to grasp Ron's arm tightly to stop himself from passing out.

"Welcome to the Black Den of Love!" Ron said proudly.

A pause, then Sirius spluttered, "Den of love? Den of LOVE?! Ronald Weasley... furs... black silk sheets... FLUORESCENT DILDOS?!! This is a fucking BROTHEL!!! What did you do to my bedroom?!"

"We just modified it a bit."

Sirius's head whipped round until his eyes came to rest on his bed. Upon which his godson was lying, very provocatively.

"Oh, Jesus, Harry!" Sirius cried, averting his eyes. "Seeing you lying spreadeagled on my bed is not going to help me get Remus!"

Harry started to scramble up, but Ron pounced and pinned him down.

"No, stay there. We're going to teach him what he needs to know."

"I really don't like the sound of this," Sirius said edgily. He kept his eyes on the ceiling, but it had been charmed into a mirror; he turned his steadfast gaze to the carpet, but it was littered with wizard porn mags. He ended up squeezing his eyes shut completely.

"It's all right, Sirius, we're keeping our clothes on and everything," Harry said. "It's just a bit of fun."

"Will you just open your eyes and pay attention?" Ron said.

"No, I bloody will not."

"Sirius, we are trying to help!"

"You're trying to corrupt me, which is not the same thing at all!!"

"Bloody hell. Stop being so pathetic. This is for your benefit, you know," Harry said.

Sirius sighed, and cautiously opened one eye. Yes, his room still looked like a sex shop.

"Make it quick, then," he said through gritted teeth.

_The sooner we start this nonsense, the sooner I can get my bedroom back!_

"Right," Ron said. "We've planned this out, so you'd better be listening carefully. What you need to do is this: when Remus comes home, you call him up here. When he sees your room, he'll either be horrendously turned-on, in which case you pounce and take advantage of all the cherry lube in the drawers beside the bed. That's good, of course. That's the more preferable reaction. The other, he'll be sort of frightened. No problem. You just show him some of these magazines. Again, two possible outcomes: he gets aroused, in which case you go back to step one, or he's put off. Still no problem. You show him your array of new 'toys', you tell him they produce pleasure never felt before in Heaven or Hell, and you ask him if he wants to play. By this point he'll be begging you to take him. At least," he added almost as an afterthought, "it worked when I got Harry..."

Sirius's head was spinning. "What if he's STILL revolted or terrified, then? Ever think of that, you pervy little smart-arse?"

"Easy," Harry said. He leaned over the side of the bed, and came up with something in his hand. The metal glinted in the dim light of the red lamps. "Go on, Ron."

Sirius just stared as Ron clicked the handcuffs shut around Harry's wrists and the bars above his head, then tugged the chains to make sure they were secure. They clinked against the bedframe, and Harry grinned.

"I love that sound..."

Ron smiled, then stood back from the bed and looked over at Sirius.

"Come over here."

Sirius took a few cautious steps forward.

"Come on!" Ron ordered. He pointed. "On the bed."

Sirius kept his wary eyes on Ron as he perched gingerly on the very edge of the mattress.

"Hi," Harry said, grinning at Sirius. "All right. I'm Remus, okay?" He clinked the cuffs again. "You've chained me down. You're going to seduce me with pleasure."

Sirius's eyes bulged. "I'm going to do nothing of the sort!! You're suggesting I rape my best friend?!"

"No, no, it's different. He's going to like it!!"

"Harry, you're warped! You hear me? You're FUCKING WARPED!!" Sirius started to get up, but Ron was around his side of the bed like a flash, pointing his wand at the older man.

Harry clinked the chains again until Sirius looked back a him. "So," he said. "Now you've got a werewolf tied to your bed, what are you going to do with him?"

"NOTHING!" Sirius yelled. He wrenched Ron's wand from his grasp and threw it across the room, then pushed him aside and ran downstairs.

After drinking a few good gulps straight from the whiskey bottle, he flung himself into his armchair and shook.

~+~+~+~

+++ Back in Diagon Alley +++

"All set?" Hermione asked.

"All set," Remus confirmed, although he was far too pale and his voice was shaking and he felt like a complete prat.

"Then let's go."

They Apparated home.

~+~+~+~

+++ Back at The Bachelor Pad +++

"Sirius," Harry said in a small voice, from the doorway.

Sirius tried to ignore him, so Harry and Ron came into the room and sat on the rug by his feet.

"We're sorry," Harry went on. "We didn't mean to offend you. It was all for fun."

"Yes, well, it wasn't funny," Sirius muttered.

Harry and Ron exchanged an abashed glance. "Really, Sirius," Ron said. "We ARE sorry. And we ARE trying."

"It's not working, though!" Sirius said. He slumped even further into the armchair, staring dejectedly at the fireplace. "Nothing's working. I've tried EVERYTHING. He doesn't want me. He never will."

"Sirius, don't give up yet!" Harry said. "We have to keep trying. We need something really spectacular... a fairy tale situation to make Remus fall dramatically into your arms and profess his never-ending adoration for you."

"I don't WANT drama," Sirius said despairingly. "I just want to hug him sometimes, you know?"

"You mean, you want to feel his hard, sweaty body sliding against yours as you shag?" Ron prompted.

"NO! It's... gah."

Sirius hid his face in his hands and shook his head violently.

"It's what?" Harry asked.

"Mrmffphmrrwrr," said Sirius.

"..."

"I said," he said, removing his hands, "that it's not just sex any more. I don't think it was EVER 'just sex'. Yeah, I miss shagging and I wouldn't say no if he offered me a grope or two, but honestly, it's more than that. I'm in love with HIM. With Remus Lupin, the PERSON. The soul, the personality. The fucking WOLF, even. It's..." His voice trailed off and he took a few deep breaths before finishing, "It's not just sex. It's... HE'S everything."

He didn't look at the others for a VERY long few seconds; when he did, he was surprised to see them smiling almost tearfully.

"Softie," Harry said.

Sirius shrugged. "Yeah. I suppose I am."

"I have an idea," Ron said. "Beautiful in its simplicity, and probably ten times more effective than anything we've tried already."

"Oh? What's that?"

"You could just TELL him."

"Don't be ridiculous!"

"I'm not! If it makes him hate you, there's always Memory Charms."

Sirius cuffed him round the head. "I'm not doing that, idiot!"

"Sirius!" Harry snapped. "Bloody hell, man, will you stop behaving like such a child and just TALK TO YOUR GODDAMN FRIEND!! Whether anything comes of it or not, you can't go on like this. You just can't. It's pathetic."

"Okay," Ron cut in. "If you could say anything to him, anything at all, without fear of him hating you afterwards, what would you say?"

"I'd..." Sirius began, then he broke off and rubbed his eyes wearily. "Nothing. I couldn't."

"IF, Sirius! THAT'S THE MAGIC OF THE WORD IF!" Ron bellowed.

"WELL I CAN'T, SO IT'S A BIT OF A FUCKING FUTILE EXERCISE!" Sirius roared back.

Harry grabbed his arm. "Please, Sirius. This is really important. What would you say to him, if you could say anything? Please tell me."

Then a voice from the hallway called, "No, don't. It's not necessary. I heard already."

Sirius jumped about a foot in the air. "Who's that?" he hissed.

"All right, don't be mad at us," Ron said quickly, "but Hermione and Remus Apparated into the hall as we were coming downstairs. And..."

"And they told me you wanted to tell me something," Remus said, as he walked into the room.

For the second time in twenty minutes, Sirius thought his eyes were in danger of dropping right out of his head.

"You've been out there this whole time?" he gasped. "You heard me say all that? And -- God, Remus, why the bloody fuck are you dressed like Ricky Martin?!"

"It was Hermione's idea, but that isn't the point," Remus said. He stopped halfway across the room and winced. "These things are awful to walk in. How on earth do you manage it, Padfoot?"

"I don't, I hate the damn things. Harry and Ron made me do it. They thought it'd... err..."

"Impress me?"

"...Yes."

"It did."

"It DID?"

"Yes. You looked amazing."

"I didn't FEEL amazing. I felt like an A-grade prat."

Neither of them noticed Harry and Ron edging away, obeying Hermione's frantic beckoning. Nor did they notice when the three younger people Apparated away, leaving them alone.

Sirius looked at his friend critically. "And you LOOK like an A-grade prat, you know."

"I know," Remus said. He popped the button and zip open, then flopped down on the sofa. "Ugh. That's better. We're far too old for this sordid nonsense."

Sirius suddenly felt brave. "Are we?" he asked, with mock-innocence. "For someone who's too old for sordid nonsense, you look pretty damn appealing sitting there in unzipped trousers..."

Remus smiled. "And you look beautiful in my raggy old brown cardigan."

Sirius blushed as he realised he was still wearing the garment. "I meant to take it off before you got home," he admitted. "I just wanted to wear it for a bit. It smells like you."

Remus laughed. "Sirius?"

"Yes?"

"We've been acting so stupidly. Now, can we please forget about the awkward stage and get straight to the sex?"

"Sounds good to me!" He stood up and helped Remus to his feet, pulling him close and wrapping his arms around the slippery, silky fabric of Remus's poncy shirt, rubbing his cheek against Remus's, making no move to kiss him just yet -- he was perfectly content just to be close to him.

"Let's go to your room," Remus whispered.

"Uh... Remus?"

"Yes?"

"I think we'd better go to YOUR room."

~END~


End file.
